I’m writing this blog post at 4:50 am because I can’t sleep. My son, mother and I are all visiting an Early Intervention Classroom this morning. Nervous is an understatement.
E’s diagnosis is still fresh as we received news of it on Monday and it’s only Thursday. After a nearly 6-month wait filled with tests, worry, appointments and therapies, it all came down to that 10-15 minute phone call from his developmental pediatrician. I’m trying not to think of this as a tragedy, because, really, it’s not. There was always something “off” about E and I knew it. All the diagnosis does is open more doors for treatment for him. Now, he can receive ABA therapy in addition to Early Intervention Classroom time on top of his occupational therapy and speech therapy. Doors are being opened for my sweet little guy.
I did my share of 4am crying for a couple days. I’m moving on to happier thoughts, dreams and opening doors for my baby. Even if he’s nearly 2 and a toddler to everyone else, he will always be my baby, my sweet little boy.